marauding foxes
mutilating fruit
minutemen mischief-makers
marching upon us
pick our pockets
laugh at our loss
“No mangoes for sale”
maimed, mangled, mashed
sweetness shamed
to death
ants and gnats feasting
off illicit mango chutney
sly scamps
evade
like Bolt-pace
their intake
of fruit sugars
insufficient for catching
robust diabetes
enfeebling the fiends
abducting limbs, or a pedactyl
soulful eyes stare with jeers
sailing
mimicking
bold breezes
through the trees
as I could never
in the canopy of my Caribbean youth
under mother's God-eye
girls outclimbed me
wearing puffy petticoats
and cumbersome cornrows
to perpetrate petite thefts
of mangoes
Categories:
cornrows, animal, culture, environment, fruit,
Form: Free verse
Torn, tattered, tainted,
my Book of Shadows
Travels with me,
from cities to meadows
Drawings included;
demons and rainbows
Spells introduced,
between haystacks and cornrows
Too frequented to be dusty,
fingerprints galore
Weathered in delight,
my personal grimoire
Some may find it spooky,
but to me, I adore
Empty pages wait for me,
what do they have in store
Tuesday, November 23, 2021
''W'' New Poems Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Constance La France
Categories:
cornrows, appreciation,
Form: Rhyme
i used to
walk the
cornrows
shooting
mourning
doves as
they flew
out as
fast as
clay pigeons
now my eyes
are following
the cornrows
of her hair
from fore
head to
nape
like
following
a maze but
not wanting
to escape
so by
braiding
ex
tensions
ex
tend
my
stay
Categories:
cornrows, muse,
Form: I do not know?
i used to
walk the
cornrows
shooting
mourning
doves as
they flew
out as
fast as
clay pigeons
now my eyes
are following
the cornrows
of her hair
from fore
head to
nape
like
following
a maze but
not wanting
to escape
so by
braiding
ex
tensions
ex
tending
my
stay
Categories:
cornrows, muse,
Form: I do not know?
My hair fills the circumference of itself
And takes up space with little help
It goes the only way it knows
In tightly bound cornrows
In church the preacher talks about my hair
To entertain everyone there
Saying 'comb out your unchristian naps!'
Someone says 'Amen' and claps
I cannot change the cross-heavy volume
But no one hears over the organ's tune
I turn the locks into a twist
Can't wear my church hat with hair like this
My hair fills the circumference of my life
Till there is space for nothing else about me.
Categories:
cornrows, beauty, hair, race, racism,
Form: Sonnet
Look thou up again for the rain clouds gather
Thou hast seeded with vapor of tears
Art thou soon weary gazing upon heaven?
And thy hope eaten up by needless cares?
Come thee away from whence I call to smell the rain
Hear the thunders grumble for how long it tarries
Will thou not sing to the Creator before the frogs in the pond
And arise to the plough blessing thy seeds?
Dance with the children in the wind
Take thee thine last jar of oil to paint harvest a woman with cornrows
Poke the windows of heaven with thy faith
That its honeyed waters break forth with healing to thy sorrows.
Categories:
cornrows, spiritual, time, truth, uplifting,
Form: Quatrain
Groves,
parallel patterned rows
(hardly higher than bushes),
dot and stretch up hillsides,
looking from a distance
much like cornrows
on the tight tan scalps
of hip young New York
subway riders.
Luscious fruits,
at closer range,
mimic setting suns
boldly drawn in crayon:
oranges evoke essence,
name their own color.
Categories:
cornrows, allegory, fantasy, imagination, nature,
Form: Epigram
I once heard the whisper of falling snow,
saw a spark in the eye of a coal-black crow,
felt the power and awe of a swift river's flow,
the older I get, the less I know.
My hair was once braided in golden cornrows,
by Jamaican friends in an island below,
a psychic once asked me about Jericho,
the older I get, the less I know.
The hot southern asphalt that scalded my toe,
the rope swing that swung us, to and fro,
Christmas Eve and the tree in the firelight's glow,
the older I get, the less I know.
Everyone's gone, but where did they go?
Why is my spirit sinking so low?
Is it true we reap only what we sow?
the older I get, the less I know.
©2010 DanielleWhite
Categories:
cornrows, allegory, angst, health
Form: Monorhyme
Remnants of Winters tendrils
reside upon the bare basalt cliffs.
Cornrows of ice cascade
washed by relentless rain.
Down pours the mana
of Spring, the Bride,
berating the laggard Winter;
expunging the beauty of ice.
The sunless muted morn aids
Winters grip on its crowning glory;
braiding wayward wisps of white
into crevasses.
The last, lingering, lustful
remainders of Winter.
The day before Spring begins.
Categories:
cornrows, nature
Form: Personification
The Lip Gloss question of the day is "What do I know about you?"
Can't really say -- everyday, I see something new.
It could be hat, wig, cornrows, or weave,
Don't matter which, I gotta have me a look-see.
It could be Fendi, Gucci, or knock-off imitation,
Don't matter which, I'm begging for a view with no cessation.
Her moods are so mercurial,
Could be sad, happy, intellectual, silly, angry or attitudinal.
Don't matter which, your presence and aura are always desirable.
You challenged me with the "So you think you know the crab now?" query,
In truth, the Crab's shell remains opaque, still shrouded in mystery.
Of course, I hope I'm in store,
To learn much, much more.
But I sincerely have all I need to know,
For you to occupy a special place deep within my soul.
Categories:
cornrows, love, me,
Form: Rhyme